Shadowing Me
by Snix
Summary: Oneshot Snape tries to teach Harry to kill, which doesn't work out too well. Dumbledore can't help but meddle. Slight HPSS, Very slight.


This is meant as a one-shot. Totally.

Disclaimer -- I don't own Harry Potter. All I own is my keyboard. Which is missing a right arrow key...

Warnings -- Implied m/m relation, implied threesome. Really nothing else. I mean, spider death, if you count that as violence...

* * *

"Ah… Avada Kadavra…" Harry Potter, current savior of the Wizarding world, newly aged seventeen-year-old, and borderline nervous wreck, chanted feebly. Green sparks fluttered from the tip of his wand, but the spider he was supposed to be killing remained very much alive. He used one hand to wipe away a dribble of sweat and the other to skewer the spider with his wand, "Bloody stupid insect."

Snape, who had previously been a brooding black blob on a tree, swirled forward, getting his robes to descend in his trade mark fashion. It took less than a moment to be at Harry's side, and even less than that for Severus Snape to start berating him.

"Mr. Potter! First of all, a spider is not an insect. If you had half a brain cell, you would know that spiders are, in fact, arachnids, not that it should be expected of the world's largest idiot to know such a trivial fact. It seems your spell-casting skills are no better than your meager potions, if I dare call them this, abilities. You're making Neville Longbottom look like a bloody boy genius!"

"Well, _sir_," Harry managed to drip more sarcasm on that one word than scales on a fish, "if you would bother teaching me what I am supposed to be doing, maybe I'd have more an idea!"

Snape sneered down at him, "Now the Golden Boy wants to be babied? Just like your idiot of a father, strutting around, boasting, making an ass out of himself."

"Don't say that!"

"I speak only the truth, Potter."

"My father was a great man!"

"Really, now? Well, then, forgive me, your Highness. I'm sorry to have wronged you…" Snape pulled out a fresh spider, his wand, and narrowed his eyes at Harry. His glittering, pitch black eyes never once left Harry's as he pointed his wand and muttered quickly, "Avada Kadavra." The spider squealed once and curled up. Harry broke eye contact to look at the spider in a horrified sort of way. He felt as if something in him snapped.

What little self control he had developed over the years was disappearing rapidly. This wasn't sensible, he had to admit to himself, but whaling on Snape always made him feel better. The only problem with this situation was the lack of ammunition. So far, Snape hadn't said anything that was an outright lie. James Potter was a strutting oaf. Harry was having issues casting spells. So Harry picked up on the only thing he could.

"What the hell did that spider ever do to you?"

"Once again, Mr. Potter, you are completely missing the point of the activity."

"Why'd you kill him? What if he had a family, a wife, perhaps several hundred offspring?"

"That is none of our concern, Potter. You need to get back on task if you ever want to defeat," Snape hesitated a moment, "Him."

"Who is going to tell Mrs. Spider that her poor husband was killed today by a monster? A large, black, foreboding, angry, snarky," Harry couldn't help but add 'very good-looking for all he's a greasy git' in his head, "bloodthirsty monster came out of nowhere and struck him down. Where do you get off acting like god? Who gave you the right to smote?"

Snape rubbed his forehead with one hand, "I can't believe I let Dumbledore talk me into this. As if I didn't get enough flack from teaching you dunderheads Potions, and then the attempt at Occulumency, which I must say, you've gotten worse at. I've heard every thought."

Harry felt his face pale, "You… haven't… Couldn't… Did you?"

"Yes, Potter, and if you could get your teenaged, hormonal mind out of the gutter, we could continue trying to pound some sense and skill into your inept brain."

Bristling, Harry attempted to look tall and imposing, all of which was lost on the ever larger Snape. The sneer that he had plastered on his face just made him appear sick to his stomach, but Snape refused to ask if Harry was feeling well. The sneer faded as Harry saw that the desired effect, namely Snape getting angry, firing spells, getting sent to Azkaban and rotting, was no where near becoming reality. He nodded noncommittally and waited for a fresh spider.

"Are we to continue?"

Potter nodded stiffly again, not making eye contact.

"Stop thinking so loudly, dunce. I will not condone such ridiculous behavior. I am trying to help you, and all you can think about are different ways to kill and/or torture me. That, however, will not help you learn the Killing Curse."

"Just give me a stupid spider."

Snape handed one over, "Just remember, you need to want that spider dead."

"Can I pretend it's you?"

Grunting, Snape shrugged, "If it helps."

"Avada. Kadavra."

The spider sizzled and died. If Snape wasn't quite so stunned by the spell's result, he would have taken a moment to be proud of the young man. But… There was something disturbing about the fact that Potter had to picture him to kill.

"…Passable, Potter…"

Just as hesitantly, Harry muttered, "You read my mind?"

"No, Potter. Should I have? Should I have peered into your small recluse to see you standing over my body?"

Harry shuddered. He wasn't thinking about killing Snape, but those words brought other things to mind, "I wasn't thinking about killing you."

"Than what were you thinking of?"

"How good it will feel when the world is rid of Voldemort."

"Must you say his name?"

"Yes, I must."

Snape snickered maliciously, "That's not all you were thinking of. You were pondering how good it would feel if I--"

"Was not!"

Harry threw the dead spider to the ground and stalked away, trying to get his cloak to billow around him like Snape's did, and, once again, failed miserably. Snape cleared his mind of most of his thoughts, the pesky, sidetracking thoughts, and concentrated calming himself down enough to think. The brat always got him so riled up. He just wanted to strangle the frustrating young man, but he knew that it would look bad and there wasn't much he could do to cover up the murder other than burn the body, scatter the ashes at sea, break his wand, and retire to his mansion on the west shore of Britain to enjoy an early retirement.

Peering around, Snape noticed the sun was setting. The tree he had been leaning on seemed to have withered in the dim light, and Snape decided going inside Hogwarts was probably a smart idea. Dumbledore would have a cup of hot tea waiting for him, and that was exactly what the doctor ordered for Snape. The courtyard of the Hogwarts faded into night and Snape faded into the shadows of the ancient castle.

As assumed, the Headmaster was in his office, pouring tea and setting out lemon drops. Snape slid inside and slouched on an easy chair. Dumbledore poured a cup of tea, placing the delicate china cup in Snape's gangly hand.

"I'm sorry; Albus, I can't do it. The boy is a nuisance."

"Please, Severus, just a little bit longer. He's almost strong enough to kill Him. A few more weeks."

"I wouldn't be able to last a few more days, sir."

"Is there anything I can do to make this more bearable for you, old friend?"

"No, sir, other than give him a vasectomy and cut out his tongue."

"Vasectomy?"

"Sorry, sir, but the thought of more Potters running around makes my blood run cold."

Dumbledore choked on his tea, and smiled, his eyes twinkling, "Ah, dear boy, you don't mean that?"

Snape cracked his knuckles, "Oh, but I do."

"Severus. Just train him for one more week. Just one, and then you are free to do what you wish."

"I am guessing that does not extend to bodily harming the boy?"

"You just can't keep your hands off him."

It was Snape's turn to choke on his tea, "You can't mean that, sir."

Dumbledore just smiled and took another sip of tea, "Are you so blind that you can't see it? For all the years he's been at Hogwarts, you've protected him. You consent to train him, even though you think he gets on your nerves. You're constantly thinking about touching him – albeit in a murderous way, but you're thinking about it. You bicker with him, but you enjoy getting a reaction from him and having a sparring partner. You just need to realize this."

Snape smashed his tea cup and stormed to his dungeons. His rooms were situated down there, but he first went to his Potions Laboratory and set about creating potions. It was one of the few things that could calm a raging Snape. Hours later, dragging into the night, Snape left his lab and sulked to the door to his room. The portrait of Salazaar Slytherin was the portal to his realm, a fact he was quite proud of. That part of the hallway was normal. The part that threw him through a loop was the angry young man standing out front of the portrait.

"It took you bloody long enough to get back, Snape."

"That's Professor Snape and ten points from Gryffindor for unbridled cheek to your superior." Snape paused as he approached the painting, "What are you doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore sent me down. He said you wanted to talk to me and I'm stuck here until you talk."

"Then be prepared for a long wait. There is nothing I wish to divulge to you at this moment in time."

"I can't leave until you talk! Dumbledore cast some sort of stupid spell and now I'm stuck here or in your rooms until you talk!"

Snape snorted, "Are you really prepared to wait?"

"No! Just talk!"

Shoving Harry aside, rudely, Snape muttered his password incredibly quietly, and entered his chambers. The door slammed too quickly for Harry to enter, too. Thoroughly proud of himself, Snape went to take a quick shower before he went to sleep. He hated going to bed with his hair a greasy mess. A lotion to make his hair flame retardant had to be applied daily, though the unpleasant after effect was a greasy appearance.

The bed never looked so welcoming and Snape sunk into it gratefully. With a wave of his hand, he doused the lights and fell asleep. Nothing disturbed his peaceful slumber until the early hours of the morning when Dumbledore's angry face appeared in the dying embers of Snape's fire.

"Severus Snape. Get up this moment."

Snape groaned and peered around, "Har… Who's there?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "You can't fool everybody, Snape."

"What are you doing in my rooms, sir?" Snape couldn't help but add a taste of agitation to his tone.

"Let the dear boy into your rooms. He's sleeping in the hallway and looks quite uncomfortable. If you won't tell him your feelings, at least let him sleep on the couch."

"I will not allow the brat into my personal chambers. I have nothing to say to him and this matter will not persist. Let him free before something bad happens to him out in the hall."

"Is that a threat, dear Severus?"

"No. That is a calmly delivered truth. My Slytherins pass my door on a daily basis and you know how popular your golden boy is."

"Severus."

"No. You made you boat, and now you get to go down with it."

"You are impossible." Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling, "See you at breakfast."

Before Snape could snap back that Dumbledore should mind his own bloody business, Dumbledore had disappeared from the fire, leaving a disgruntled Severus to grumble at his fireplace.

After showering and dressing, Severus headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Though it was summer, all people staying at the castle were cordially required to come to breakfast whenever possible, and this summer, there were many guests at the castle. A good deal of the students stayed behind, since their parents wanted them to stay where they were safe from Voldemort, and others stayed because they had no home to return to. The Deatheaters had gotten increasingly violent in the previous months, burning down houses and destroying whatever got in their way. Grudgingly, Snape admitted it was nice to eat with other living beings, but that was only admitted grudgingly. Of course.

If anybody asked, he hated it. Why he had to be stuck around a mill of mindless idiots year round was beyond his comprehension and if he had his way, they'd all be eating up in their little Common Rooms, leaving him well enough alone.

Potter was leaning against his portrait, sleeping. He snapped to attention as soon as Snape left the portrait, glaring at Snape.

"What is it now, Potter?"

"You can't just leave me here, you know!"

"As far as I know, I can."

Snape swirled away, almost unable to hide the near smile that threatened to adorn his face. A few Slytherins, namely Malfoy and his cronies, were late to breakfast. They were beaming a little too much, and Snape felt a pang of worry scamper through his mind. But he brushed it away and brought another forkful of pancake to his mouth. Potter could take care of himself.

Dumbledore sat down to his left, eyes still twinkling madly, "I take it he's still in the hall?"

Snape grunted in response. Nothing else was said to Snape during the meal, but Severus knew Dumbledore had something planned. Not sticking around to find out what it was, Snape put his napkin down on his plate and stalked back to his quarters. Potter was a bloody mess on the carpet, which he pushed aside with the toe of his boot before entering.

Half an hour later he heard noises outside, which he could only assume was Malfoy back for seconds. Snape merely shrugged and picked a book off his bookshelf and settled on his couch for some reading. Let Dumbledore take care of his own mess.

Outside, Malfoy aimed another kick at Harry's stomach, "Just because I chose not to take the Dark Mark doesn't mean I like you." Kick. "In fact, it just makes me hate you more." Kick. "You're the reason my father wasn't around when I was little." Kick.

Harry spat out blood and tried to sit up, "Sod… sod off Malfoy…" His voice wobbled.

"But this is too perfect. You can't fight back." Kick. Harry fell back to the ground, "And Professor Snape would never help you." Kick. "So I can take my time and have a little fun with you."

The kicking stopped, for which Harry was eternally grateful. Malfoy eyed him, sizing him up. When he spoke again, Harry had finished spitting out the blood that had filled his mouth during the beating. "I've heard the stories of your… romantic escapades… but I don't believe a word of it. You can't be anything special." Malfoy leaned in, using a hand to tilt Harry's face up. "Who would think you were handsome? Ugly git, you are." For all the insults, Malfoy smirked and swooped in, kissing Potter, hard. Harry tried to pull away and found himself backed against the wall and still incredibly sore.

Draco pulled away, "You're nothing special. You must have to use your fame to get girls into bed with you. After all, what girl wouldn't want the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived. Right? Or, as rumors fly, what boy? I've heard your preferences swing that way. It's so obvious. You and the Weasel must have been doing it for years. No wonder he's so defensive about you. And the mudblood. I'm sure she's in on it, too."

Harry snarled, "Leave them out of this!"

Malfoy's smirk broadened, "What a nice story that is. The Golden Trio does everything together. And I mean everything. I can think of a few choice newspapers that would print a story like that in a heart beat. Whatever would your little Weasel girlfriend think?"

"Ginny is not my girlfriend!"

Tsk-ing, Draco cracked his knuckles, "Oh, pardon me. I shouldn't say such things when you're too busy lusting after your Potions professor."

That left Harry speechless.

Snape, in the mean time, had heard enough. He threw his book aside and stomped out of his portrait, "Malfoy! I think you've done enough. Go to your dorm."

Malfoy snickered, "See you later, Potter."

Harry burned crimson, snarling, but stuck to his spot. His rage ebbed as he doubled over, wheezing. Snape looked disdainfully at him, "I shall send for Dumbledore."

"Pro.. fessor… couldn't you… help?" With each of the pauses, Harry gasped for air.

"I could, but due to circumstances, I won't."

"Please! I don't know… what the Headmaster said… or did, other than this spell… but please!"

Snape hesitated a moment, "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to make sure you don't die outside of my room. That wouldn't look very good to those who don't know what happened. Get in."

Harry wobbled for a moment, "Um, sir…"

"What is it now, brat?"

"I can't, er, walk…"

Frowning, Snape picked Harry up bridal style and brought him inside. Harry leaned against him, but tried valiantly to remember that Snape could – and most likely would – read his mind. As much as he tried to hold on to that thought, he couldn't help inhaling deeply, committing the scent to memory.

Snape did not smell as Harry thought he would. Harry had imagined, late at night, alone, that Snape should smell of smoke, a very sexy smell, he thought. Smoke and maybe spicy, depending on what potion Snape had been messing with. Very earthy, though. Harry's dream was shattered, but he was still content with what he found. Instead of smoke and spice, he met with the tantalizing smell of freshly cut wood. Snape was surprised as he read Potter's mind.

It was second nature now to peer into his student's mind. There was a goldmine of blackmail awaiting him each time he looked inside, yet… he felt that he would never use anything he found. As much as he wished to kill Potter, embarrassing him was not a step Snape wanted to take. That would make him too much like the people who tortured him in school.

Snape dumped Harry on the couch unceremoniously. Harry glared at him for a moment, and then was distracted by his own wheezing. The wheezing was starting to make Snape a bit worried. Harry shouldn't still be wheezing up blood, at least not from what he had heard going on out there.

Stalking back to the couch, Snape handed Harry a clear potion, "Drink that." Harry gulped it down, expecting a rancid taste, and didn't get one. Snape smirked, "I add sugar to my personal stores. The normal potions I give to Poppy are to discourage miscreants from hurting themselves."

Harry smiled, "Thank you, Professor."

"What did Malfoy do to you out there? I was aware of him kicking you, but nothing other than that."

Harry didn't answer at first, and Snape was getting irritated. It bothered Harry that Snape knew that he was being abused and did nothing to stop it. The moment passed and Harry spoke, "After you left for breakfast, Malfoy came along. He quickly figured out that I was immobile and had Zabini and another Slytherin I don't know help him punch me up a bit. He used a few of the minor hexes we learned not long ago in D.A.D.A., only he packed a lot of power behind them. Made my lungs ache."

Snape meanwhile had gone to his cabinet and was digging around for something, "Continue."

"Zabini and the other guy got bored with hitting me around and left, but Malfoy wanted to keep going. He promised he'd come back after breakfast, and he did. I don't know how much you knew about happening, but he continuously kicked me." He left the part out about Malfoy stealing a kiss from him and insulting his friends.

"And that's all?"

"Yes, sir."

"What hexes did he use?"

"I'm fairly sure he used a minor blasting charm, and I think a conjunctivitis curse. We just started studying those in class at the end of the year, so they weren't very strong."

"Anything else?"

"No, sir."

Snape felt mild stirrings of anger at Malfoy's actions, but since they did not seem to have any lasting effects on Potter, it was not something he would take points off for. Potter seemed to expect him to, though.

"Very well. I shall talk to him, then."

"Will… will he get any detentions?"

"No."

"But Professor!"

"He is my student and I will deal with him as I choose."

Harry fell into a sullen silence, but Snape felt his own heart rising. Potter's temper had obviously improved, making him less of a problem. Not that he cared to be around the boy longer than he had to.

"Are you ready to talk to me, yet?"

Snape stared at him, "What?"

"Dumbledore's spell…"

"Ah. I suppose. Dumbledore has this crackpot theory—

"So what's new?"

"Will you shut it and listen?" Harry was silent. "Good. He has this theory that I care for you."

Harry sputtered for a moment, "What the…"

"My thoughts exactly. Although I might admit that you are no longer intolerable, you are also not on my list of people I wish to spend time in the company of."

Harry muttered for a moment, "As if you could have a relationship…"

"I could, and I have, Mr. Potter."

"Longer than a week?"

"Try three years."

"And then what happened? Did she cheat on you?"

"No, and that is none of your business. We parted on mutual terms."

Harry scowled, "And why wouldn't you want to spend time with me?"

"You forget, Mr. Potter, that you are in fact my student for one more year, and why are you presuming me to be gay?"

Blushing, Harry stumbled around, "I thou… Er, please… I'm legally old enough! And… I didn't… Are you?"

Snape didn't answer, "Now that I have spoken to you, you should have no problem leaving." He thrust another potion at his student, "Drink this and leave."

Harry sipped it tentatively, drinking it slowly, "Thanks…"

Clearly he was disappointed, and Snape felt his heart hurt for the first time in a long time.


End file.
